The Station
by SuzSeb
Summary: It was just a stop to get gas. How much trouble can Sam get in to? Spoilers up through Slow Burn
1. Chapter 1

FF_992224_2030059662 4/27/2012

A/N: This story is completed. I will post a chapter a week until it's completed. It's eleven chapters, so I hope you enjoy.

Spoilers: Through Slow Burn

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint or anyone you recognize within the story.

* * *

Toronto Police Strategic Response Unit Sniper Sam Braddock was on a mission. He'd needed to stop for gas in his truck. And when he went inside the station to pay for his gas purchase, he'd seen the candy displays and had a sudden thought. He knew his girlfriend and teammate Julianna "Jules" Callaghan loved peanut butter cups. So Sam became obsessed with finding them in the tiny convenience store. The box next to the cash register was empty, but the clerk had pointed out a display in the back that should have more.

Grinning at the clerk, Sam triumphantly held the candy up as he strode back to the register. He was chatting with the clerk when the door opened. Sam glanced over and then froze when he saw the gun in the hand of the man entering.

Pointing the gun at the clerk, the assailant growled, "Gimme the money!"

"No way," the clerk screeched. "I get docked for everything missing. I'm not givin' you anything!"

"Hey, guys, let's all just calm down," Sam began, trying to deescalate the situation.

"Shut up," the man with the gun snarled. He swept the gun at Sam and connected with his cheek.

Sam went down to one knee, fighting the pain and dizziness.

The gunman swung the gun back towards the clerk. "Give me the money, now! Or you'll be next!"

"No!" if anything the clerk was screeching louder.

"Look man," Sam said to the clerk. "Calm down. It's just money. Give him what he wants and we all get out of here ok."

"If I give him the money, my boss will fire me," the clerk muttered, sullenly. "I need this job."

"Fine," Sam snapped, "I'll give it to him." He put his hands up at shoulder level, and slowly got to his feet. He looked at the gunman. "Stay calm, man, I'm just going to go back there and get your money, ok?"

He waited until the gunman nodded and said, "Hurry it up! I don't have all day!"

Sam nodded and moved a little faster. Everything was going smoothly until Sam moved between the clerk and the gunman. The clerk shoved him forward and reached toward something under the counter. With his hands in the air, Sam lost his balance and fell straight into the gun. It went off into his right shoulder and Sam felt the red-hot fiery pain shoot through his body. He cried out and fell backwards, knocking the clerk down as well.

The gunman snarled and shot the clerk in the head. Sam clutched his bloody shoulder, watching helplessly as the gun turned back towards him. Before the gun finished leveling at him, both Sam and the gunman were distracted by the sirens pulling up outside. The gunman snarled again and rushed to the door. Quickly pulling down the shade, he locked the door. Turning back towards the register, he ordered, "Get up. Get out here. Get out here, now!"

"I'm coming," Sam forced out past the pain. He slowly struggled to his feet. "Give me a minute; I'm not moving so well." Pain shot through him with every movement. He swore silently as he realized that his collarbone was probably broken. When he was back on the outside of the counter, the gunman gestured for him to sit. Sam slowly slid down the counter, gasping with relief when he was finally still.

The gunman quickly moved through the convenience store, finding four more patrons hiding back by the restrooms: three women and a man. Ushering them back to the register, he ordered them to the floor next to Sam.

"Uh, hey, man," Sam said, tentatively. He froze as the gunman turned both his attention and gun towards him. "Can someone get me something to help stop the bleeding, please?"

The gunman stared intently at him for several long minutes. Finally he gestured towards one of the woman on the floor next to Sam. "Get paper towels and duct tape," he said, gruffly. He paced nervously while the woman moved tentatively through the store. When she scuttled back with the supplies, he waved the gun toward Sam. "Fix him up," was all he said.

He continued to pace, the gun clenched tightly in his hand, while the woman opened the paper towels and duct tape. Another of the women moved to help her without being told. Sam couldn't hold back his cry of pain when they eased his jacket off his wounded shoulder. He could feel the sweat running down his face, pain shuddering through him as they pressed the paper towels to both the entrance and exit wounds. He clenched his teeth tightly, doing his best to hold still as they wrapped the paper towels with duct tape.

"Thanks," he gasped when they were finished.

His eyes followed the gunman as he reached for and snagged Sam's jacket from the floor where the women had laid it. He swore silently, knowing the gunman was going to find his SRU ID in the inside pocket.

"You're a cop?" the gunman exclaimed, his gun again targeting Sam's forehead.

"I'm off duty," Sam said quickly. "I'm not armed. You can see I'm not armed." He met the gunman's eyes, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. "I just came in to pay for my gas and get some candy for my girlfriend." He held the gunman's gaze. "I swear; I'm just here to get gas and candy."

Sam did his best to hide his fear as the gunman gestured the other hostages away from him. He put up his hand, trying to forestall what he knew was coming. Sam cried out when the kick connected with his ribs. He curled up on his side as two more kicks slammed in to him.

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A/N: Please review if you can! Thanks! :)


	2. Chapter 2

FF_992224_2093353289 4/27/2012'

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.

* * *

The phone started ringing after the third kick, and Sam exhaled in relief as the gunman moved away. He struggled to hold his moans of pain inside. He tensed when the phone kept ringing and the gunman moved back towards him decisively. Grabbing Sam's uninjured arm, he jerked him to his feet. Keeping the gun pointed at his head, he dragged Sam with him to the phone.

"You answer it," he growled. "But put it on speaker."

Sam silently nodded his compliance, shakily reaching for the phone handset. Setting it on speaker, Sam quietly said, "Yes?"

"This is Sergeant Troy Walker of the Police Strategic Response Unit. To whom am I speaking?"

Sam looked at the gunman questioningly. The gunman gestured with the gun for him to answer, keeping it pointed loosely at him the entire time.

"This is Constable Sam Braddock," Sam replied.

He heard the startled curse from the other end of the line. Still, Troy quickly regained control. "We've had reports of several gunshots. Is anyone injured?"

Again Sam looked to the gunman for permission before replying to the other officer. The gunman had calmed somewhat, and Sam didn't want to do anything that would re-escalate him. This time the gunman shook his head.

Sam thought quickly. He knew that the SRU would get the surveillance footage and see what had happened. Right now, it was more important that Sam kept the gunman calm. "We're all ok," was all he said. He could tell from the tense silence on the other end of the phone that Troy knew he wasn't telling the truth, but the other officer didn't call him on it.

"So what can we do to get all of you out of there safely?" Troy asked calmly.

"I want a car," the gunman growled at the speaker phone. "I want an unmarked police car with a scanner and a full tank of gas."

"All right," Troy replied. "I'll start the process to get you a car. Can you tell me your name?"

"No," the other snapped. "And you have one hour. If I don't have a car in an hour, I'm killin' this cop right in front of you." He slammed the phone off, grabbing Sam's arm and forcefully shoving him back towards his spot on the floor. Sam wasn't allowed to sit near the other hostages. He knew that was bad. The subject was desensitizing himself to Sam – probably working up the nerve to finish him off. He tried to talk to the gunman again, but the other slashed the gun into his face for the second time, adding another bruise and slowly seeping gash, growling at him to shut up.

Sam lay where he'd fallen after the blow, the pain radiating through him. He was hurting too badly to move. He jerked when the gunman kicked him as he paced by. A grunt of pain escaped his tightly clenched teeth. He silently apologized to Jules in his head. He was beginning to wonder if he was going to make it out of this store alive. Sam turned his head away, as the gunman aimed another kick in his direction. This time he couldn't suppress a small cry as the pain spiked through him again.

Team One minus Sam Braddock was in the gym, doing their morning workout. They'd heard Team Two get called out – gunshots at a gas station. They were all getting nervous about the tardiness of their teammate. Jules, especially, was upset. She'd known that Sam needed to stop for gas, but she wondered what was taking him so long. They had something special to tell their teammates and she hoped Sam wasn't getting cold feet.

"Jules," Greg Parker, Team One Sergeant and Negotiator finally spoke up. "Do you have any idea what's keeping Sam?"

"No, Boss," Jules replied. "I know he needed to stop for gas, but he should have been here by now."

All of Team One looked up as Commander Holleran came into the doorway. "Greg, I need you. The rest of Team One, briefing in five."

After exchanging concerned looks, Team Leader Ed Lane, Tech Expert Michaelangelo "Spike" Scarlatti, Constable Raf Rousseau, and Jules all shuffled off to their dressing rooms. Greg listened quietly, and then moved quickly to change and meet back up with Commander Holleran, the Special Investigation Unit's Inspector Stainton and the rest of Team One in the briefing room.

"What's going on, boss?" Ed asked as Greg entered the room. "What's this all about?"

It was Holleran who answered him. "There's been a situation this morning."

Jules paled. "What happened to Sam?" she asked quietly, her hands twisting together on her lap, although she kept her expression and voice neutral.

"The gas station with shots fired that Team Two got?" Holleran met the looks from all of Team One. "Sam's inside."

No one spoke for a moment. Finally, Ed broke the tense silence. "What's the situation?"

"Tense," Stainton spoke for the first time. "There's a single subject plus four hostages excluding Braddock. And the subject knows that Braddock's a cop. Sergeant Walker asked if there were injuries, and Braddock said they were all ok; but the sergeant thought he was just placating the subject. And then we got the surveillance footage."

"How bad is it?" Spike asked.

Commander Holleran sighed heavily. "Sam was shot in the right shoulder. Several of the other hostages were allowed to treat it with paper towels and duct tape, but he needs a hospital." He looked over at the completely silent Jules Callaghan.

"Troy is on board with Team One assisting," Holleran said carefully. "The subject appears very volatile. Greg, Troy would appreciate you and Spike in the truck." Everyone was casting concerned glances towards Jules.

She quietly met Ed's look then spoke to the commander. "Do we have an ID on the subject, yet?"

"No," it was Stainton who replied.

Jules nodded. "Ed and I can work on that," she offered. "Once Spike gets an ID, we'll see if we can expand on any profile or find a family member who can help." She was calm and rigidly in control. She would not break down while she was needed. "We can start by surveying the area and see if anyone recognizes a picture."

Holleran nodded his acceptance. "Ok, Rousseau, you report to Sabine. She may need another officer on the perimeter."

"Got it," Raf responded. "I'll ride with Spike and the boss."

Everyone got up and began moving to where they were needed.

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

FF_992224_202234746 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.

* * *

Sam groaned as the gunman kicked him again. He cried out when the subject continued to kick him until he rolled over onto his stomach. He laid there, the pain exploding through him. He didn't have to wait long to find out why the subject wanted him on his stomach. His arms were pulled behind his back and duct taped together. He couldn't altogether suppress the scream of pain caused by the edges of his broken collarbone grating together. He panted heavily, struggling to regain control. Once his hands were restrained, the gunman began kicking him again, until Sam twisted over onto his side again, trying to escape the relentless blows.

Sam heard one of the women crying and another praying. He silently hoped that he was included in those prayers. But he wasn't sure anything was going to save him. Sam blinked back tears. He'd been so full of happiness this morning. He thought they'd finally gotten over the hump. He figured that once the Chief had given him and Jules permission to stay on Team One even though they had a personal relationship, things would start going their way. Now he'd be happy if he could just survive.

He screamed again as the gunman grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet. He didn't wait for Sam to get his feet under him; he just dragged him along with him. By the time Sam recovered from the pain of the trip, the gunman was already on the phone.

"Where's my car?" he demanded.

"Can you give me your name?" Troy asked quietly.

"No, I want my car!" the gunman shouted. Sam flinched. He was escalating rapidly. "Where the hell is my car?" His hand tightened on Sam's arm. "I guess you need to see that I mean what I say!" He slammed down the phone without waiting to hear what Troy had to say.

"You!" he snapped his fingers at the woman who'd gotten the duct tape and paper towels. "Go find me a towel or something." He glared at her when she didn't move. "Move it! Or do you want to be the one that I make an example of?"

The woman scuttled off, fear coating her features. Sam realized she was the woman who was crying. He lost track of the woman when the subject shoved him to the floor. Sam paled when the gunman began pulling on the duct tape. He knew what that meant. It was just thrust home when the woman came back with a kitchen towel. Sam knew he wasn't going to make it out of this one. The tape pulled at his skin after it was wrapped around his eyes.

He felt the subject's gaze as the man stared at him. "You want a chance to say goodbye?" he asked gruffly.

Sam sat there, rigid, considering. Finally he nodded once, slowly. "Yeah," he rasped. He cleared his throat as the gunman picked up the phone again.

"It's not this guy's fault that you don't believe I'm serious," he began. "And he didn't do anything against me. So, I'm gonna give him the chance to say goodbye."

"Please, we're still trying to get your car," Troy pleaded. "Please don't do anything that can't be fixed. Like you said, the constable didn't do anything against you. Please don't punish him for the breakdown in procedure."

"I made a promise," the gunman said, doggedly, "and I aim to keep it. You gonna let him say goodbye, or not?"

"Ok," Troy said softly. "We'll let the constable speak."

Sam was silent for a long minute. When he did speak, his colleagues could hear the pain in his voice. "Sarge," he began, "I know you all did everything you could." Sam swallowed hard. "Guys, take care of Jules." He paused again. "God, Jules, I love you so much. Don't…" his voice broke. "Don't stop living because of this. I need to know you're still here, doing what you need to do." He felt the tears start down his face and whispered again, "I love you, Jules." And then his throat closed and he couldn't speak again.

The sound of the gunman hanging up the phone was loud in the silent store. The gunman's gruff, "Open your mouth," startled several of the other hostages, but Sam had been expecting it since he'd sent the woman off for a cloth. He didn't fight it. It wasn't going to change anything. He moaned as the gunman wrapped the duct tape around the cloth in his mouth.

He was pale, but composed as the gunman pulled him to his feet. This time he gave Sam a chance to get his feet under him. Sam silently shuffled where the gunman guided him.

"On your knees," was the next gruff order.

Sam bent his legs and awkwardly collapsed to his knees. He had an idea that he was somewhat close to the door. That idea was reinforced when he heard the shade being retracted. Then he felt the gun at his temple. He swallowed dryly, struggling against the cloth in his mouth. He twisted his fingers together, hoping this wouldn't drag on too long. Sam wanted to scream, to fight for life with everything he had in him. But he just didn't have the strength or the opportunity. All he could do was kneel there, head unbowed; hoping his team and his love would understand that he'd never given up.

"Isaac?" Troy snapped. They were sitting in the truck, horror-struck; watching the subject positioning Sam on his knees within in the framework of the doorway and then pointing the gun at his temple.

"No joy," Isaac snapped back. He was desperately looking for something, anything to take a shot at. He couldn't stand just watching a fellow officer executed like that.

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A/N: Please don't panic before you know what's going to happen! Just hang on...

A/N2: I promise an update on Monday...


	4. Chapter 4

FF_992224_233163774 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint...

A/N: So... Like I promised...

* * *

_Sam bent his legs and awkwardly collapsed to his knees. He had an idea that he was somewhat close to the door. That idea was reinforced when he heard the shade being retracted. Then he felt the gun at his temple. He swallowed dryly, struggling against the cloth in his mouth. He twisted his fingers together, hoping this wouldn't drag on too long. Sam wanted to scream, to fight for life with everything he had in him. But he just didn't have the strength or the opportunity. All he could do was kneel there, head unbowed; hoping his team and his love would understand that he'd never given up._

_"Isaac?" Troy snapped. They were sitting in the truck, horror-struck; watching the subject positioning Sam on his knees within in the framework of the doorway and then pointing the gun at his temple._

_"No joy," Isaac snapped back. He was desperately looking for something, anything to take a shot at. He couldn't stand just watching a fellow officer executed like that._

And then the gunman's plan was knocked on its side – literally. Sam felt him stagger behind him.

And though he couldn't see or hear it, Sam could imagine the words being snapped over the radio.

Isaac's, "I have the solution," was answered immediately by Troy's, "Scorpio."

Sam would later swear that he could feel the breeze left by the bullet as it passed over his shoulder into the gunman behind him. With no choice, Isaac shot to immediately disable the subject. It was a direct hit, right into the subject's forehead. His body was propelled backwards, knocking Sam off balance. Sam collapsed to his side, screaming into the gag as the pain overwhelmed him for a moment. Even then, he knew what must have happened.

The doors burst open and Sam heard the Team Two officers shouting, "SRU, freeze! We need to see everyone's hands!" He lay there, covered with the glass from the doors, struggling to control his emotions. He'd really expected to die at any moment. Shudders of reaction rippled through his body, causing him to moan with pain as they jostled his broken bones.

A hand on his arm caused Sam to jerk in surprise, eliciting another pained moan.

"Sorry Sam," he heard Donna murmur. "We've got you now. We're gonna get you out of here soon." He heard her ask for scissors and Jules' medic friend Steve replying. "All right, Sam, I'm going to get this tape off of you." She waited for Sam's small nod of acknowledgement before beginning. She cut the tape around his wrists, first. Sam felt several pairs of hands gently moving his arms to his sides. He cried out as the movement jostled his broken collarbone again. He moaned once, struggling to get his pain back under control.

Once he had some measure of control again, Donna gently cut the tape covering his eyes. Again Sam felt several pairs of hands peeling the tape from his head. He blinked his tears of pain back and slowly took in what was going on around him. His head was cradled on Donna's knees as she knelt behind him. Steve was kneeling at his side. Donna met Sam's gaze and silently gestured with the scissors toward his gag.

He gave another minute nod, knowing too much movement would worsen the pain. Again her gentle touch guided the scissors through the tape holding the towel in his mouth. Sam let Donna pull it out, desperately trying not to cough. Unfortunately he wasn't successful and several sharp coughs forced their way out. He immediately keened in pain as the sudden movement sent agony spiking through him again.

When he'd recovered somewhat, Sam met Steve's knowing eyes. "Collarbone?" the medic asked, sympathetically.

Sam just nodded. He wasn't sure he could speak, yet. And then another face behind Steve caught his attention.

"Pete," his soft word brought instant silence. "Thanks, man." His eyes met the gaze of the other male hostage. "You saved my life."

Pete Mills looked at Sam for a long silent moment. "I didn't do anything you wouldn't have," he finally said. "Don't waste it." He looked at the uniformed officer escorting him out, "You ready, now?" The officer nodded and they continued on.

"What…?" Donna asked.

"He kicked the back of the subject's knee, knocked him off balance," Sam said, softly. "That's what gave your guy the shot."

Donna nodded. "Isaac took it," she said.

Sam closed his eyes, having to fight his emotions again. He made a mental note to thank Isaac when he got the chance.

Steve had been working on getting an IV started while Sam and Pete were talking. "Ok," he finally said, "we're ready to go." He met Sam's eyes. "Sam, we need to move you now."

Sam nodded. He braced himself against the pain. A strangled hiss of pain was all he let past his lips as they lifted him onto the gurney. As they finally wheeled him out of the store, Sam let a silent sigh of relief flow from him. He really hadn't expected to leave that store alive. He'd thought it would be the last place he'd ever see. And then Jules was there, their team behind her. Sam reached his left hand out and grabbed Jules' hand. He held it to his uninjured cheek, staring into her eyes, letting the love and relief shine from there. He didn't realize there were tears streaming down his face, but he didn't really care, either.

The medics finally got him moving toward the ambulance again, and Steve moved next to the gurney. "Sorry, Jules," he said, "only family in the bus."

* * *

A/N: See, I told you not to panic! All's well, at least for the moment...


	5. Chapter 5

FF_992224_1153730709 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint...

A/N: A little coarse language in this segment...

A/N2: And, as for what Sam and Jules were going to tell the team - read on...

* * *

_The medics finally got him moving toward the ambulance again, and Steve moved next to the gurney. "Sorry, Jules," he said, "only family in the bus."_

"I'm his fiancée," Jules stated flatly, "I'm pretty sure that qualifies as family."

All eyes were on Jules and Sam as Jules held her left hand up, a solitaire engagement ring on her ring finger shining brightly in the sunlight.

"Whoa! Sam, buddy," Spike exclaimed. "Don't you think you're moving kind of fast? You guys have only been official for three weeks."

"I've had the ring for three years," Sam said without thinking. Then he winced and turned bright red. Everyone including Jules was staring at him in shock. Meeting her eyes, Sam pulled her hand to his cheek again. His embarrassment faded as he let her see exactly how he felt about her shining from his eyes. And then he said, "I've loved you since that day you pointed a gun at me," softly and sincerely, reminding her of the day they'd met.

Jules just leaned down and gently kissed him on the lips. Then she looked around at the surrounding SRU personnel. "We just got engaged last night. We were going to tell you this morning. But _someone_ had to stop for gas." Suddenly her eyes filled with tears as she finally reacted to the fact that she'd nearly lost the man that she loved.

Sam met Steve's eyes and silently asked the other man to get them out of the spotlight. Steve nodded, and spoke softly to the other medic, moving Sam into the ambulance and helping Jules inside right behind. In the privacy of the ambulance, Jules let the tears fall, squeezing Sam's hand tightly. Sam didn't say anything, just silently reassured her by squeezing her hand lightly back. He was struggling to keep his pain under control.

Sam met Jules' eyes when she reached out and caressed his cheek. He reached up with his left hand and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I'll be ok," he whispered. Still holding her hand, he gently slid the back of his down the curve of her cheek. "I'm going to be ok, sweetheart."

Jules was back to her calm, collected self by the time they reached the hospital. Sam smiled at her as he was whisked away to Imaging for x-rays of his shoulder. After they gave him something for the pain, he silently endured the cleaning and examination of his wound that followed. The doctor told him he was going to check on his x-rays and consult on his wound, but he didn't think Sam needed surgery.

Sam was relieved to hear that. As he lay there quietly waiting, the relief that he was alive swept over him again. His hands started shaking and tears pricked at his eyelids. He quickly took a deep breath, determined to control his emotions. Yes, he'd come very, very close to dying today, and more than once. But he hadn't. That was the most important thing to hold on to. Because of Pete Mills and Team Two, he was still alive and fairly well.

Sam silently thought about that. Pete Mills was probably the least likely, in his opinion, to have done what he did. Before he thought about that too closely, the doctor was back. He told Sam that since the wound was a through-and-through and the break a clean one, he wouldn't need surgery. They would stitch up the wound and then immobilize his arm in a sling. Sam could follow up with his own orthopedic physician after a week, to see how long he'd need his arm immobilized.

Things moved quickly after that. They gave Sam the local anesthetic in his shoulder and began stitching up his shoulder. Once it was stitched, they immobilized his arm in a sling. They'd given him a couple units of blood while they were waiting on the test results.

When they wheeled him out, Sam was surprised at the range of people waiting for him. He'd known he'd probably see Inspector Stainton, because the Inspector needed Sam's statement of the events that'd happened in the convenience store. And he wasn't surprised to see all of Team One, because he knew they wouldn't leave until they were sure he was ok. Sam wasn't even shocked to see Wordy there next to Jules, holding her hand. Although he'd left Team One, Wordy was still part of the family. But Natalie sitting next to Spike was a surprise. And Troy Walker, Donna Sabine, and several of the others from Team Two waiting was also a surprise. And the biggest surprise? Pete Mills was sitting there, silently watching the others, a look of polite interest on his face. Sam knew he was making the others uneasy, because they kept shooting suspicious looks at him while they chatted quietly. He figured it was only his comments to Donna that caused them to give him enough benefit of the doubt to allow him in the waiting room.

Ironically enough, it was Pete who saw him first. He stood up quickly. "Sam," he asked moving to his side, "How are you doing?"

Sam watched the others stiffen, but not react in any other fashion. He knew they were watching this interaction intently to see how and why Sam knew the other man. "Pete," he nodded, "I'm going to be fine. I have a broken collarbone, but other than that, I'm pretty good to go." He met the other man's gaze. "Thanks again, man."

Pete shrugged. "I didn't do anything anyone else wouldn't have," he said a little uncomfortably.

"Are you on leave?" Sam asked, knowing the other man wanted to change the subject.

"Yeah," Pete replied, "I ship out again next week – back to K-Bar."

Sam nodded, thoughtfully. Before he could say anything else, Pete spoke.

"So this is what you do all day?" he asked curiously, shooting a glance at Sam's teammates and colleagues.

Sam laughed. "Yeah, pretty much. Some days it's bombs and weed, some days it's guns and terrorists, some days we just patrol the streets; SRU pretty much gets 'em all."

"Hmm," Pete mused. "I'll have to pass it on that you're not just sitting here on your ass all day like some have suggested." He shot a sharp glance at Sam. "Some think you left your cushy military sniper job for a cushy civilian sniper job."

Sam met his eyes. "Rii-ight, like I really had that many more advantages back in K-Bar," he said, sarcastically.

"Hey, man, you're preachin' to the choir," Pete responded. "I saw who the brass came down harder on. Just didn't feel like takin' any hits for it." He met Sam's gaze cautiously.

Sam wasn't about to fault him for that. "I can't say I blame you," he returned. "It was hard enough just getting through each day, without any more crap piled on." He reached out his left hand to shake Pete's. "You be good," he said, quietly, knowing the other man would know what he meant.

"You too, Samtastic," Pete grinned at Sam's shocked expression when he used his SRU nickname, "You, too."

Sam groaned as he realized his new nickname was going to fly through his old unit. He winced, just thinking about several of the guys' reactions. "Shit," he said, "I won't be able to answer my phone for a week!" He glared playfully at the other, "at least a week!"

Pete grinned again and sketched a salute, "Catch ya later, Braddock," he said as he left.

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A/N: What do you think so far?


	6. Chapter 6

FF_992224_742039926 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint...

* * *

_"You too, Samtastic," Pete grinned at Sam's shocked expression when he used his SRU nickname, "You, too."_

_Sam groaned as he realized his new nickname was going to fly through his old unit. He winced, just thinking about several of the guys' reactions. "Shit," he said, "I won't be able to answer my phone for a week!" He glared playfully at the other, "at least a week!"_

_Pete grinned again and sketched a salute, "Catch ya later, Braddock," he said as he left._

Sam grimaced sourly at his teammates, "So who's the genius who let that slip?" he growled.

It was Ed who answered after looking around the room. "As far as I know, no one said anything to the guy. He must have overheard something." Ed shrugged. "Is it really important?"

"No," Sam sighed, "I'll just never hear the end of it," he said, slumping a little. He looked over at the Inspector. "So what now?" he asked.

"They're releasing you?" Jules asked, shocked.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "They topped me up while they were waiting for the x-rays. Other than that, it's just a broken collarbone and a hole in my shoulder. The hole's stitched, the broken collarbone's immobilized. I'm not supposed to do anything for a week; then I can start slowly and work my way back up to my normal activity." He looked around the room. "I was lucky," he said, quietly. He shuddered again as he thought about exactly how lucky. He could still almost feel the gun at his temple.

"Sam?" Unsurprisingly it was Greg who approached.

"Yeah," Sam replied, pulling his mind back from what had happened.

"You ok?" Greg persisted.

"No," Sam admitted. His calm admission brought a shocked silence. He sighed, heavily. "I'm not ok right now," His brutal honesty was holding the others in the room silent. "But, I will be," he continued, doggedly. He sighed heavily again. "I'll be fine," he said, determined to make that the truth.

Before anyone could say anything else, Spike spoke up, sidling closer to Sam. "So, you know that guy?" he nodded at the doorway that Pete had just vacated.

"I served with him," Sam admitted.

"You were buddies?" Ed asked. He raised an eyebrow. He'd never heard Sam discuss anyone named Pete.

"Not really," Sam said. "Not that I blame him."

"What do you mean?" Raf asked, confused. "Why would you blame him for not being your buddy? And why would he not want to be your buddy?"

Sam sighed again. He knew his teammates had no idea what it was like for him in the military. It wasn't easy, being the general's son. "It's complicated." Before he could continue he heard and recognized the footsteps. And he straightened into a rigid brace, shoulders back, hiding the wince when his broken collarbone protested the movement. All the emotions on his face slid right off, his expression becoming a mask of calm.

Seeing Greg opening his mouth to ask what was wrong, Sam held up his hand to forestall his words. And then he was there. The military officer stopped for a split second in the doorway, taking in the scene.

Moving into the room, but not approaching Sam, he snapped, "Samuel."

"Sir," Sam answered.

The general's eyes raked Sam up and down.

"Damage?" he snapped again.

Sam spoke quietly, clinically, "A broken collarbone and two cracked ribs. And a .38 caliber gunshot to the right shoulder." He didn't react to his father's scowl.

"So, some punk with a gun takes you off-guard?" the general asked. "You know better than that." He raked Sam with his eyes again. "And it took a military officer to save your life," he said, disappointment heavy in his voice

"Actually, sir," Sam said softly, "it took a military officer and an SRU trained sniper to save my life. Isaac Wright has no military experience. He's SRU trained all the way." Pride in the SRU was evident in his voice.

General Braddock snorted his disdain. Sam just continued to watch his father, not taking his eyes from the other's gaze. He wasn't about to give in. He _**knew**_ what his father wanted. And he wasn't about to give it to him. The tense silence stretched for several long moments.

"So, when are you going to come back to where you belong?" the general finally snapped.

Sam sighed quietly. "I _**am**_ where I belong… where I have a future." He reached out for Jules' hand and twined their fingers together.

The general didn't even look at Jules as his scowl deepened. "Braddocks are military men," he snapped.

"No," it was Natalie who answered. "Braddocks are courageous people who defend the innocent – where or how they do it isn't important." She looked at Sam's surprised face. "What? I'm a Braddock, too."

"Samuel?" another voice spoke from the doorway.

Looking over, the team saw a middle-aged black woman peering in with concern on her face.

"Aunt Edith?" Sam asked, surprised again.

"Samuel, what on earth is going on here?" Edith stepped into the room, her attention centering on Sam.

Greg frowned. He was sure he recognized the woman, but was unsure what Commander Holleran's wife would be doing here, visiting Sam. He was even more uncertain as to why Sam Braddock was calling her 'aunt'. Before he could consider it any further, Commander Holleran followed her in.

Norm Holleran stiffened as he took in the identities of the people in the waiting room with Sam. "William," he said stiffly.

"Norman," was General Braddock's sour response.

All the SRU personnel were looking from one man to the other confused. They'd all thought that Sam's father had gotten him the job with Team One. They didn't understand the immediate animosity that was evident between the two men.

"What are you doing here?" Commander Holleran asked, brusquely.

"I'm visiting _**my**_ son," Braddock snapped. "What are _**you**_ doing here?"

"I'm visiting one of the men under my command," Holleran snapped back.

"You have no right…" General Braddock began.

"If you two are going to argue, you need to leave," a new female voice from the door cut through the general's words like a knife. It was strong and commanding, while remaining soft and ladylike. Again the SRU heads swiveled towards the door, seeing a middle-aged blonde woman, with familiar blue eyes, standing there glaring at the two men arguing. "Sam's been injured, he doesn't need your useless wrangling getting him upset." She continued to glare at the two men. When they didn't move, she slipped into the room and pointed back at the door, "Out!" she snapped.

The two men glared viciously at each other, but began moving from the room. After they were gone, the blonde moved towards Sam, smiling quietly at him. "Sammy," she said softly, "how are you feeling?"

* * *

A/N: This is one of my take's on Sam's family life. I don't like the general very much - in case you couldn't tell! :P

A/N2: I'm also taking liberties with how Sam got the job in the SRU. But this is fan fiction. And it just fit into the story.


	7. Chapter 7

FF_992224_74671590 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint...

* * *

_"If you two are going to argue, you need to leave," a new female voice from the door cut through the general's words like a knife. It was strong and commanding, while remaining soft and ladylike. Again the SRU heads swiveled towards the door, seeing a middle-aged blonde woman, with familiar blue eyes, standing there glaring at the two men arguing. "Sam's been injured, he doesn't need your useless wrangling getting him upset." She continued to glare at the two men. When they didn't move, she slipped into the room and pointed back at the door, "Out!" she snapped._

_The two men glared viciously at each other, but began moving from the room. After they were gone, the blonde moved towards Sam, smiling quietly at him. "Sammy," she said softly, "how are you feeling?"_

Sam's colleagues were amazed at the transformation in their teammate once the general had left the room. Sam was smiling quietly at the woman who had to be his mother, all the military rigidity relaxed back into his normal posture. "I'm going to be fine, Mom," he said, softly.

"Marlene," Edith Holleran smiled widely at Sam's mother, "It's good to see you. It's been a couple weeks."

"Edie," Marlene Braddock returned, "I'm sorry it's been so long. It's just been so busy." She smiled widely back at the other woman. "And it's just going to get busier. We have a wedding to plan!" she exclaimed. She moved to Sam's side and swiftly kissed the top of his head, ignoring Sam's wince. She reached her hand out to Jules'; taking the hand Sam wasn't holding and squeezing softly before releasing her. "It's so good to see you again, Julianna. And welcome to the family."

Jules smiled nervously at Sam's mother. "It's good to see you again too, Marlene," she said softly. "And thanks." Jules looked at Sam uncertainly, unsure what to add to that. He just silently kissed her wrist, letting her know it was ok to leave it at that.

Marlene Braddock looked around the room again, her eyes narrowing on the doorway when raised voices from outside intruded on the conversation within. She huffed out an expression of disgust, looking at her friend Edith. "Dang it, Edie; it sounds like we're going to have to go out there and separate the two idiots."

Edith sighed dramatically. "Well, sooner is probably better than later. We don't want them to resort to violence."

The two women quickly left the room, chatting quietly.

Sam winced again as all eyes swiveled to fasten on him. It was Greg who asked the question they were all wondering about. "Sam," he began, "I thought your father got you the job with Team One. Isn't that what you told Dr. Toth?"

Sam looked calmly at his sergeant. "Not exactly," he said quietly. "Toth asked if my father got me the job and I told him he'd have to ask them; that it was between the commander and the general." Sam sighed softly, a rueful smile on his face. "It'd ruin my image to admit that it was my mom that got me this job." His eyes were alight with mischief as he continued. "Or maybe it's more accurate to say Aunt Edie got me this job."

"You always were her favorite," Natalie smirked. She looked around at all the confused looks. "My mother and Aunt Edie have been friends since they were kids. When Mom told Aunt Edie that Sam was leaving the military, she made it her mission to pester Uncle Norm until he found him a spot."

Sam watched the considering looks he was getting and started to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. Before he could panic about whether this revelation was ruining his acceptance among the other SRU officers, movement at the doorway caught his attention.

"Pete?" he asked, confused. "What are you doing back here?"

"I was hoping I could still catch you," Pete said quickly. "While I was talking to Justin, letting him know that it _**was**_ our _**Samtastic**_ friend who was involved in the gas station incident, he reminded me about Saturday afternoon."

Sam looked uncomfortable.

Pete sighed. "That's what we thought," he said. "Justin and I figured you wouldn't believe you were invited. So I came back to personally invite both you and your charming fiancée to the reunion. We'd all like to see you again before we ship out."

"All of you?" Sam's eyebrows rose in disbelief.

"Well, most of us," Pete admitted. "And Justin wants the opportunity to thank you in person."

Just then, a nurse came into the waiting room. "Constable Braddock, you need to sign your discharge papers." She looked around at the large group of people in the waiting room. "I'm guessing you probably have a ride home somewhere in this group."

Sam squeezed Jules' hand before releasing it. "Yes, ma'am, I'll be fine." The nurse wheeled him out of the room, chatting quietly.

Ed's sharp glance landed squarely on Pete. "So, you and Sam served together," he mused, quietly.

"Yes, sir," Pete replied. He directed his attention back at Jules. "Ma'am, we'd really appreciate it if you could convince Sam to come to the reunion this Saturday." His smile became more of a smirk as he added, "And if you could come, too, ma'am, it would really freak some people out."

Jules frowned as she replied, "I'm not going to do anything if you keep calling me ma'am." She glared at the military officer. "My name is Jules."

"Yes, ma'am – Jules," Pete spluttered quickly.

"And why is my being there going to freak some people out?" she asked, curiosity lightening her frown.

Pete shrugged. "In all his time in our unit, Sam never expressed or showed any interest in any of the women around." Pete watched shock fill most of the faces there. Natalie's face just showed sadness. "Half the guys figured he had someone at home, and the other half just figured he was gay."

"Do _**you**_ know why?" Jules slowly asked.

Pete shrugged again. "Matt got angry one night and vented to me, because he didn't want Sam to know what the jerks were saying. But he just said that Sam had had a bad breakup before he shipped out," he said uncomfortably.

"You could say that," Natalie said sadly.

"What happened?" Spike reached out and squeezed her hand, comfortingly.

"Sam dated Angela for six months before he shipped out," Natalie began. "I think he was starting to think that they might have something, but he wasn't ready to commit quite yet. He wanted to see how she reacted to him being overseas." Natalie paused for a moment. "Well, the last time they got together before he left, she gave him an ultimatum. She told him if he didn't ask her to marry him, she'd marry the other guy she'd been seeing. She said that she wanted to marry a general's son before she was twenty-five, and if Sam wouldn't propose, she'd take the next best general's son, Toby Reinhardt. She'd been dating him at the same time she was dating Sam. Sam was devastated because Angela admitted she was only going out with him because of who our father was. He told me he didn't think he'd ever get married." She looked at Jules quietly. "That's why I was really glad when things worked out so you two could stay together. You're the first woman he's really cared about since Angela."

"Why was it so important for her to marry a general's son?" Jules asked, confused.

Pete exchanged glances with Natalie. "It's complicated," they said in unison. Pete gestured at Natalie to continue. "It doesn't matter anymore," Natalie said quietly. "It's not important to any of you, and you guys are who Sam cares about. So it really doesn't matter."

* * *

A/N: I don't really know anything about military politics - but I like making it up. So just bear with me :)


	8. Chapter 8

FF_992224_1536145791 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint...

* * *

_Pete exchanged glances with Natalie. "It's complicated," they said in unison. Pete gestured at Natalie to continue. "It doesn't matter anymore," Natalie said quietly. "It's not important to any of you, and you guys are who Sam cares about. So it really doesn't matter."_

Ed was focusing on something else Pete had said. "So Sam served with Justin, too?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Pete replied, "Both tours."

"So why does Justin want to thank Sam?" Ed continued.

At that, Pete grinned. "Sam's been babysitting for Sarah, Justin's wife. Sarah has a class one night a week, and doesn't have any family nearby to help with their three kids."

"Three?" Jules was surprised.

"Yeah," Pete replied, "A blond, a brunette, and a redhead." He was startled by Jules' sharp look. "They have two girls and a boy," he continued, slipping cautious glances at Jules. "The kids love Sam. They're horrible for any other babysitter Sarah can find. They just keep asking for their Uncle Sammy."

"Are you talking about Justin's kids?" Sam asked as the nurse wheeled him back into the waiting room.

"Yeah," Pete replied, "Sarah's having trouble getting anyone else to watch them. They refuse to behave for anyone but you." He grinned at Sam. His phone rang and his grin widened. "Speak of the devil." Quickly answering the call, they heard him acknowledge that he was still visiting with Sam. "I'll see if he's up for it," he said into the phone.

Looking at Sam, he asked, "Are you up to talking to the terrible trio? I know you've had a long day, but they must have heard Justin and Sarah talking and now they won't settle down until they've talked to you."

"Sure," Sam smiled. Taking the phone, he began talking softly to the kids. Again the group was surprised at the way his expression changed when he was speaking with them. It softened at least as much as it had for his mother, if not more.

Jules thought contentedly that Sam would make a great father. She smiled softly at him when he glanced up at her. He quickly finished the call and handed the phone back to Pete.

"So?" he asked his ex-teammate, "You headed out?" He wasn't sure why the other man was still there.

Pete looked at Jules. "You guys will be there?" he asked, avoiding Sam's sharp look.

"We'll be there," Jules confirmed. She smiled impishly at Sam. "I want to see these kids that Sam has fascinated."

Sam groaned softly, but didn't object.

Again Pete sketched at salute at his former teammate, "I'll see you then," he called out as he left again.

Sam sighed quietly and looked around the room again. "So, what's next?" he asked again. His eyes met Inspector Stainton's. "Do you need my statement, now?"

"Are you up for it?" the inspector asked. His eyes carefully considered Sam, checking his obvious injuries: the arm in a sling, the bruises and bandages on his cheek. He met Sam's eyes, seeing the muted pain there, and nodded quietly, noting that the other man wanted it over.

Stainton looked around the room. "So who's going to take Constable Braddock home?" he asked formally.

Jules looked at Greg. He nodded silently, and Jules answered, "That would be me."

Before Inspector Stainton could continue, Sam's mother and Edith Holleran returned to the room. "Sammy," Marlene Braddock said, "we need to get going before your father and Norm cause an incident." She looked at her son, sternly. "Call me, ok?"

"I will, mom," Sam promised. He endured another kiss to the top of his head; glaring at the smirking Spike. Edith Holleran kissed his cheek and patted his uninjured shoulder. "I know you don't want anyone to think you're getting special favors," she said softly, "but I miss you." She ran her hand through Sam's short hair, before reluctantly heading back out the door with Marlene Braddock.

Sam's cheeks were a little pink, and he glared at his smirking teammates again. "Don't," he shook his head once, sharply, as Spike opened his mouth to make a comment. "Just, don't!"

He looked over at Inspector Stainton and asked, "Can we get this over with?"

Spike closed his mouth without speaking, held silent more by the exhaustion showing on his teammate's face than his sharp words. He quickly glanced around at his teammates and colleagues from Team Two, wondering if the Inspector was going to ask them all to leave.

Wordy looked over at Natalie. "Do you need a ride?" he asked quietly, getting to his feet.

"I'm good," Natalie replied, also standing. "But I wouldn't mind an escort to my car." She smiled at the Guns and Gangs officer, knowing that with the two of them gone, the SRU could take care of their business and get Sam home as quickly as possible.

Moving to her brother's side, Natalie gave him a brief one-armed hug and kissed his cheek. She looked at Jules, "Take care of him," she said softly.

Jules nodded silently, sliding her hand along Sam's uninjured shoulder, but letting that be her only outward gesture of affection. She knew Sam wanted to get the SIU interview done, and wouldn't welcome an outpouring of emotion at this time.

Inspector Stainton waited until Natalie and Wordy were gone before looking around again. But he was interrupted once more when Isaac Wright from Team Two came into the waiting room.

Isaac looked around and his eyes locked on Sam. Sam cocked his head in silent question as to how it'd gone with SIU, and Isaac just nodded once, firmly in reply. It was an easy one – no doubt in anyone's mind that Isaac had saved Sam's life and the lives of the other hostages. Then Isaac's eyebrow lifted in question and it was Sam's turn to nod once in reply: he was going to be fine.

While this was going on, Troy turned to Greg and said, "I don't know how we stand it, those two are just so chatty," a wry smile on his face.

Greg grinned in reply. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I can hardly hear myself think when they get together."

The other SRU officers just rolled their eyes.

* * *

A/N: I hope you're not bored - let me know what you think...

A/N2: Next, Sam's take on the gas station incident...


	9. Chapter 9

FF_992224_1447445774 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint...

* * *

Inspector Stainton ignored this byplay and got down to business. He glanced around the room before stating, "You can all stay, as long as you don't interrupt. I need to get Constable Braddock's statement in his own words, unbiased by outside observations." He met the group's eyes before asking, "Is that understood?"

There were a chorus of "Yes, sirs," as well as nods of agreement.

"So, Constable, you want to tell me how it all started?" Stainton asked.

"I stopped to get gas and went inside to pay. I was at the register, talking to the clerk when the subject entered with the gun in his hand. He immediately demanded the money from the register. The clerk objected and I tried to get them both to calm down. That's the first time the subject struck me in the face with the gun." Sam paused, remembering.

He took a quick breath and continued, "The subject demanded the money again and threatened the clerk. The clerk still refused. I told him to just give the subject the money. The clerk insisted that he'd be fired if he did that. So, I said I'd get the money. When the subject agreed, I got up and moved behind the counter. Everything was going smoothly until I moved between the subject and the clerk. The clerk shoved me forward and reached for a weapon under the counter. I fell into the gun and it went off." Sam paused and his left hand came up and rested gently on his right shoulder for a moment.

"The shot knocked me backwards and I fell against the clerk, knocking him down to the floor, as well." Sam sighed and paused for a moment. "That's when the subject shot him in the head." He closed his eyes briefly, remembering what happened next. "The subject was turning the gun towards me, when the sirens arrived outside the station." Sam took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out. "I don't know who called 9-1-1, but whoever it was, saved my life. I'm pretty sure the subject was going to shoot me then, but changed his mind when the officers arrived."

Inspector Stainton offered, "I believe it was Corporal Mills who called 9-1-1 when the subject entered the station with his weapon in his hand. He saw it from his position near the bathrooms, but couldn't do anything but make the call."

"Then that's twice he saved my life," Sam mused. He took another deep breath and continued, "After the subject locked the door and pulled the shade, he ordered me out from behind the counter. It took me a few minutes, but I complied. When I was seated in front of the counter, the subject went through the station and found the other four hostages. I recognized Pete, ah… Corporal Mills, but knew it would be best if I didn't give any indication we were acquainted. When we were all lined up against the counter, I asked the subject if someone could get something to help stop the bleeding. The subject ordered one of the women to get paper towels and duct tape. She did, and then she and another woman took off my jacket and bandaged my shoulder."

Sam took another deep breath, but held it for a few moments, remembering the pain that followed. "I knew I was in trouble when the subject picked up my jacket, because I knew there was no way he'd miss my SRU identification. When he found it, he escalated – got angry and pointed his weapon at me. I tried to de-escalate him by explaining that I was off-duty and unarmed – that I was just there to get gas and candy." Sam took a moment to calm down, the fear and desperation he'd felt rising inside him again.

When he felt calm enough, he continued. "But the subject didn't calm down. He moved the other hostages away and began kicking me. After three kicks, the phone started ringing. I was relieved when he moved away. But he came back before answering the phone; pulling me to my feet and ordering me to answer it with the speaker on. When Sergeant Walker asked who he was speaking to, I wanted to indicate that the subject knew I was a police officer, so after getting the subject's permission I answered 'Constable Sam Braddock'." Sam took another quiet breath, pulling the calm inside and letting it spread throughout his body.

His voice stayed even and calm as he continued, "Sergeant Walker was startled, but quickly asked if anyone was injured. I checked with the subject again and this time he indicated that he didn't want me to let Sergeant Walker know about my injuries. I knew the SRU would get the surveillance footage and know what happened, so I complied with the subject, believing that it was important in keeping him as calm as possible. Sergeant Walker continued negotiating, asking what he could do to get everyone out safely. The subject demanded a car; an unmarked police car with a scanner and a full tank of gas." Sam took a shaky breath as he remembered how the subject had reacted next. "Sergeant Walker then asked if he could get the subject's name and that seemed to set him off. He escalated quickly, refusing to give his name and demanding a vehicle again. He then gave a deadline, stating that if he didn't have his vehicle in an hour, he'd kill me in front of Sergeant Walker." Sam's left hand was lying in his lap, and now it clenched as he remembered the events that had happened earlier that day.

* * *

A/N: The incident from Sam's perspective... At least what he wants everyone else to know.


	10. Chapter 10

FF_992224_1416424750 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint...

A/N: And Sam's account continues...

* * *

"After hanging up the phone, the subject dragged me back to the end of the counter, but kept me separated from the other hostages. I knew that was a bad sign. I tried to talk to the subject again – tried to calm him down, but he struck me with his weapon and I was in too much pain to continue. The subject was pacing back and forth and I was lying on the floor. Every time he moved past me, he'd kick at me." Sam shuddered briefly. "That continued for about forty minutes. The next thing I knew, the subject was standing over me, kicking and kicking at me. I rolled over on my stomach to get away from the kicks and they stopped. Then the subject used the duct tape to restrain my hands behind my back." For a moment, Sam felt the stabbing pain of his broken collarbone again as it grated together from the gunman's actions. He took a deep breath and pushed the memory of the pain away – as far away as he could.

"Once he had my hands restrained, the subject began kicking me again, until I curled up on my side, protecting my head and stomach. I lost track of what the subject was doing for several moments, but later figured out that he restrained the other hostages at this time as well, although their hands were bound in front of them." Sam paused, the emotions he'd felt at this point of his ordeal resurfacing. He'd known then that the chances were good that he wasn't going to get out of that station alive. He clenched his hands again against the tremors that shuddered through him, fighting the emotions back, refusing to give in to the left-over fear and pain.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Sam continued, "The subject grabbed my arm and dragged me up and over to the phone again. By the time I had my pain back under control, he was already on the phone, demanding to know where his car was. I heard Sergeant Walker ask if he could have the subject's name again, and that set him off even worse. He screamed that he wanted his car. When Sergeant Walker didn't respond, the subject demanded his car again. Sergeant Walker started to explain that it was just taking time, but the subject refused to listen. He told the sergeant he would prove he meant what he said and slammed the phone down."

"The subject snapped his fingers at the woman who'd gotten the paper towels and duct tape earlier and told her to get him a towel. When she didn't move right away he asked if she wanted to be the one he made an example of. The woman hurried away and I knew…" Sam paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. He made sure the emotions he was reliving did not show in his voice. "I knew my chances of getting out of there alive were rapidly decreasing." He paused again, a deep breath helping contain his emotions. "When the woman came back, the subject took the towel and shooed her back to the other end of the counter. He paused after he wrapped the duct tape around my head, covering my eyes. I could feel him staring at me. I did my best to stay composed, but I knew what his intentions were." Sam took a slow, careful breath, and then continued. "I thought hard for several moments when he asked me if I wanted the chance to say goodbye."

Sam stared down at his hands, reliving that moment of agony, his face showing just a hint of his pain. His voice was hoarse when he took up the story again, "I finally decided to take the opportunity, hoping that my words, my emotions might reach him and get him to see me as a person, and not a weapon to use against the police. I wasn't successful in deterring the subject from his actions." He paused again, controlling his emotions with effort. "When I was finished speaking, the subject hung up the phone and forced the towel into my mouth. He secured it with duct tape and pulled me to my feet."

Another slow, calm breath helped Sam keep his voice even, although it stayed hoarse as he described the terrifying events that followed. "He pulled me up and guided me to another position. I was pretty sure we were near the door – which was confirmed when I heard the subject retract the shade." Sam couldn't keep the tremble out of his voice when he said, "then he put the gun to my temple." He didn't speak for several long moments, struggling to keep his emotions contained. He took several slow, calm breaths, just trying to hold on to his composure. He didn't react outwardly when he felt Jules' hand on his good shoulder again, but it helped him ground himself – it was over, he was out of that store, and he was ok.

"The next thing I knew, the subject was staggering behind me; and I knew what must have happened. I knew Pete had to have kicked the subject's knee, knocking him off-balance and bringing him into range for Team Two's Sierra One to take the shot. When the glass shattered and the subject collapsed behind me, I knew they'd taken the shot. Then the doors opened and Team Two was there, taking control of the situation."

Sam exhaled, still somewhat shakily, but relieved to have gotten all the way through it without breaking down. It had been hard – especially knowing his colleagues – his family, were listening.

He looked up and met Inspector Stainton's gaze. "Did you recognize the subject?" the inspector asked.

"No, sir," Sam replied. "Has he been identified, yet?"

"No, he hasn't," the inspector said. "It's becoming a concern. The subject had no identification on him, his fingerprints were removed, and so far, facial recognition hasn't come up with an ID."

"His fingerprints were removed?" Sam asked, startled. He shuddered, once. "That doesn't sound like someone who came in there just to rob a convenience store," he said slowly.

"No, it doesn't," Stainton agreed. "We'll continue to investigate until we get some answers." He looked seriously at Sam. "In the meantime, I would suggest you take precautions." He gathered up his things and looked back at Sam one more time on his way out of the door. "We'll be in touch," he promised.

* * *

A/N: Hmmm... So who was the subject? Will we find out? Check out the final installment to see...


	11. Chapter 11

FF_992224_1115788754 4/27/2012

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint...

* * *

Sam looked around the room. He had something he wanted to say to his SRU colleagues, but was unsure how to begin. Greg saw his quandary, and helped him out.

"Do you have something you want to say, Sam," he asked gently.

Sam nodded and took a deep breath. "Today wasn't the first time I've been kneeling and restrained with a gun to my head," he said slowly. "But there were a few differences…," his voice trailed off and he stared off into something only he could see. After a moment, he shuddered and looked down at his hands clenched in his lap. "The last time, I wasn't injured," he said. He took a deep breath and continued, "But the biggest difference…" Sam was having trouble controlling his emotions. He clenched his hands tighter. "The biggest difference is that the last time I was behind enemy lines alone, with no one to rely on but myself." Another shudder ran through Sam's frame as he remembered what he'd had to do to get free. "And this time, I _**knew…**_ I knew you guys were out there, doing everything you could to get me out alive." He bowed his head for a moment before raising it and looking around the room. "So, thanks… thanks for being there."

Silence filled the waiting room for a few moments while Sam's colleagues digested what he'd just said. Silent glances were exchanged between Greg, Ed, and Troy – a silent agreement that this might have to be addressed later on, but it wasn't important to what'd happened today.

"Sam," it was Isaac who broke the silence. "What did Inspector Stainton mean when he said you need to take precautions? Why would someone be coming after you?"

Sam paled slightly, but met Isaac's eyes directly, "I'm sorry," his voice was very soft, "but I'm not at liberty to discuss it." He frowned to himself. "Although," he mused, "someone must have said something to the inspector." Sam sighed. It didn't matter. Unless and until his team and SRU colleagues had the necessary security clearance, he couldn't discuss what had happened while he was in JTF2. Sam shrugged his left shoulder and met Isaac's eyes again, "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"It's ok, Sam," Ed said firmly, "We all understand the need for security clearance." He looked around the room, daring anyone to disagree with him. He was almost disappointed when no one did.

Troy Walker stretched as he rose from his chair. "I have to get going," he said quietly, "but I needed to make sure you were ok, Sam."

Sam nodded, recognizing the expression on the other's face. Team Two had seen him kneeling there with the gun to his head. And although they'd been the ones who'd rescued him, they still needed to see him afterward – alive and whole; just to reassure themselves he had made it out of there alive.

Troy rested his hand on Sam's good shoulder for a moment, before making his way out of the room. As if his movement was a catalyst, the rest of Team Two also made their farewells and left. Sam was a little uncomfortable with it, but allowed them all a touch of reassurance – whether it was a left-handed handshake, or just a brush of their hand against his arm or shoulder, they all needed that physical reassurance that he was still there.

Team One gathered around their wounded teammate after everyone else was gone. "Sam," Greg said, "I'll put in the paperwork for your sick leave tomorrow. Don't worry about anything. If I need you to sign something, I'll send it home with Jules. You concentrate on healing."

"Thanks, Sarge," Sam replied. He was a little more comfortable with Team One's touches. He wasn't sure how much they'd seen, but he knew they'd heard it all. He could see it on their faces.

"Sam, you did everything right," Ed said, firmly. "Don't second-guess yourself. This subject was determined and no amount of talking was going to stop him. We're lucky Team Two _**could**_ stop him." His hand rested on Sam's uninjured shoulder for a moment. Sam felt a minute tremor for a brief moment before Ed squeezed and released him.

"Shelley and Wordy are having a cook-out on Sunday," he said, moving towards the door. "They're expecting the engaged couple to be there."

"We'll be there," Sam promised. He smiled up at Jules, his happiness at hearing them referred to in public as an engaged couple beaming from his face. Jules smiled in return, just happy to have him with her.

Raf and Spike both patted his shoulder as well, before heading home. Greg met Sam's eyes. "Be careful," he admonished. "We need you around."

Sam nodded silently. He was ready to head home. He just wanted to collapse into his own bed and cuddle with his new fiancée. Smiling tiredly up at Jules again, he waited for her to push him out of the room. Greg kept pace and Team One finally, officially left the building.

* * *

A/N: The End. And no big revelation of who the subject could be or why he'd entered the gas station with a gun. Hmm... Maybe there should be a sequel... Let me know what you think.


End file.
